Locks and Blades
by homestuckisme
Summary: Shizaya drabble collection. Following the 30 day writing challenge. Third prompt-dark. "Celty had been right. He had found someone worth living for. He chomped down on his tongue and tasted the metallic rust of his blood surge and fall past his lips. He would even die for him."
1. Chapter 1: Introduction

'Ello! I've never written for a fandom other than Gakuen Alice before, so forgive me if any character renditions seem awkward or just plain OOC. I'll try my best to accept any comments and/or criticism you throw at me, so feel free to review! :) I look forward to feedback.

This 'story' is really going to be a drabble collection dedicated to Shizaya, my most recent OTP. My friend (jAyesque on Fanfiction) kind of pushed me to do this because (as she claims), "I've read all the good Shizaya stories on FFN. OTL."

Don't worry, Borris. Chab Chab got your back.

Note: Because I'm not a bundle of inspiration, I'll actually be following the 30 day writing/art challenge. I'm pretty sure you guys can figure out the word prompt of the day based off of the chapter title. ;)

* * *

**Locks and Blades**

**Drabble One-Introduction**

"What's your name, blondie?"

The bartender looked up to find a pair of auburn eyes glowing in his direction. They met his own stare head on, glinting with a malicious curiosity, as if to dissect every part of his expression and use each newfound information for his own purposes. He was glad he wore his shades.

"None of your business, punk," he growled. He reached for another dirty cup and began to clean it vigorously. "Scram if you just want to chat guys up. You're too young to look for trouble."

"Oh? And how old are you?" He didn't have to look up to know the brat was smirking. The bartender chose not to respond and continued silently cleaning. Around them were a multitude of youths, dancing and perspiring with vivacity to the pulsing, heavy beats of music. He vaguely wondered why the kid was choosing to stay with this old man instead of getting drunk or having clothed sex like everyone else was.

After a period of silence, the bartender decided he had left and looked up.

Big mistake. The boy had moved to the seat right in front of him. Now he couldn't escape from those searching eyes without blatantly appearing to run away. And this man was anything but a coward.

"I asked you a question, blondie. Care to answer?" He noted the cheeky brat's laugh was maniacal, nearer to an evil cackle than a short melody instigated by humor or amusement. Still, his voice was undeniably sonorous and suave; the bartender had to admit even he would consider it alluring if he wasn't so pissed from being ridiculed.

"Go home, kid." He finally steeled himself to fully glare at the boy before him. "You don't know what you're messing with here."

Short black hair swished around in the air as the boy shook his head in amusement. "Why don't you show me what can happen?" he threw a subtle wink at the dumbfounded man. "That way I'll be prepared for whatever this joint throws at me."

"You honestly don't get it!" He slammed his fist onto the tabletop, loud enough so a couple of bystanders jumped a little at the sound of the impact. The boy cocked an eyebrow in response. "There are bad people hanging around here. People like prostitutes and drug dealers and strangers you don't ever want to mess with. A little shrimp like you who's just lounging around for some action is an easy picking for these guys.

You wanna see how a guy tastes like? You wanna feel someone's tongue in your mouth, slobbering for something you can never take back? Show you what can happen? Don't fucking make me laugh. The underground doesn't deal with tentative dips. Either dive into the water and deal with whatever shit is thrown at you or go back to whatever hole you crawled from."

The boy continued to stare at him, as if his words were simply wisps of smoke that had been visible for a moment and shortly disappeared. His eyes were no longer bright and burning with a mean passion for knowledge. They were cold and hard, as crude but deadly as a large, uneven rock. "I didn't jump into the water. Fire found me. It won't extinguish itself until its burned me out."

He stared incomprehensibly for a long time at the boy's small frame. He strained his eyes to look past the kid's arrogant and flirty demeanor. They found the purple bruises spotting the otherwise milky white color of his skin, carefully concealed by pieces of clothing. They saw the red finger marks crisscrossed around his neck. They found his hands, clenched so that the skin was tight and thin across his knuckles.

They sparked pity, and the realization that maybe a bad day at work didn't excuse him from assuming the worst intentions from every youngster wandering around.

"My name's Shizuo. Heiwajima Shizuo."

He waited for a reply.

"The great Orihara Izaya, at your service."


	2. Chapter 2: Love

ERGH. I FEEL HORRIBLE GUYS.

I wasn't able to upload the second drabble yesterday like I should have because of procrastination issues and trouble with the prompt in general. Honestly, I wasn't expecting to write this type of situation so soon. ;A; I mean, what the hell is love? I'm only fifteen. The best I can do is imagine.

But I'll have the third drabble up today. I promise.

So here's my take on Shizaya rabu. PM or review if you have any questions, comments, or feedback!

* * *

**Locks and Blades**

**Drabble Two-Love**

_May 4, 20XX: night time_

"What do you mean you can't make it home? Are you pulling my leg? You know I'm the only one allowed to do any pulling of legs around here."

He heard Shizuo's familiar exasperated sigh escape from the other end of the telephone. _"Look, Izaya. Traffic's just mad over here. Chaotic. Horrendous. Whatever fancy-schmancy eloquent word you want to describe it as. I'm not in the mood to play with you; there's this freaking headache pounding its merry way in my head and just-fuck."_

"That doesn't excuse you from being late." Izaya pouted. He rolled over onto his stomach and began kicking the couch underneath his feet. "How long will it take?"

_"At the least...maybe two hours. If God is on my side."_

"How many times have we been over this?" Izaya snapped. "There is no such thing as God." Maybe it was just the bitter disappointment swelling up in the bottom of his stomach, but his switch of personalities had never happened any faster. "You're such a stupid human."

The usual bustling sounds of Ikebukuro's streets filled the silence as Izaya quietly seethed in frustration. Then the dial tone reached his ear.

"Oh that bastard did not-" But he had.

"Fine! You think you're so funny, don't you? Well just go on and be late! And I sincerely hope you get hit by a truck again so I can laugh at your humiliation, lying on the side of the road, all mangled and broken like the roadkill you should be!" He knew he was acting ridiculous, talking to an inanimate object as if it could take the place of his warm, large, blond hunk. But the fact that today was special and he hadn't been able to spend any time with his beautiful, oh so very interesting specimen of the human race drove him crazy.

Someone was ringing the doorbell. Izaya reluctantly got up from his (somewhat) comfortable position and shuffled over to apartment door. "Who the hell is it," he grumbled sullenly.

No answer came. He growled and ran his hands through his black head of hair. He didn't care anymore if he was wrecking his 'do; what did it matter when the one person he wanted to look best for wasn't present? "Is this some kind of sick joke?"

"Only if you make it out to be."

Izaya froze. For a moment he couldn't even speak-which was something for the normally mouthy and garrulous man.

He then hurried to unlock and open the door. And there stood Shizuo with several bags in tow, all looking as if they had something that might be of value to picky old him. "Surprised?" asked, raising a brown eyebrow in contrast to his blonde locks.

Izaya merely stood there as if a freight train had hit him. "You one-upped me."

Shizuo widened his smirk. "Yeah."

"You tricked me."

"Yup."

"You...you're here?"

"Yes."

All of a sudden he threw himself at the stupid, aggravating, selfish man in front of him and began beating his chest with tight, little fists. "How dare you even _attempt_ to elude me, you mere protozoan! Contrary to everyone's belief, I do have fucking feelings! I do feel lonely and disappointed and-"

Izaya stopped mid-tirade when Shizuo's warm arms wrapped around him and pulled him close into a heartfelt embrace. "Hey, chill!" the giant growled, resting his chin on the little one's head. "I didn't know you'd be so upset. I just wanted to make myself into a sort of surprise, I guess. You're always pulling a fast one on me so I thought I could have a little fun of my own today. I'm sorry, Izaya."

"Couldn't you have duped me another day?" Izaya complained.

"Nah." He grinned. "I knew fooling you today would be priceless."

"Bitch."

"Happy birthday." Shizuo's lips brushed his forehead and he shivered in delight. "I love you."

"...I might return the same feelings as well."

"You better."


	3. Chapter 3: Light

'Ello again, everyone. I should just warn you all that I'm a procrastinator and a lazy butt. So this 30 day challenge will probably last a _lot_ longer than thirty days. Keep that in mind.

Be warned, there is one mild smut scene in this. It's badly written, but the sexual intercourse is still hinted. Also, be prepared for random time shifts and lots of angst.

Angst. It's where it's at.

Feel free to PM or review if you have any questions or comments! (Like actually, I like reviews. A lot.)

* * *

**Locks and Blades**

**Drabble Three-Light**

He had been born an anomaly, a strangeness even in a world of abnormalities.

His father had been a demon, graced with an irresistible beauty capable of gathering tremendous power and fame, which was unfortunate for the many humans susceptible to his charms. Stories passed by word of mouth to generation to generation, telling of this enigmatic, gorgeous, yet evilly-inclined creature. The stories varied within the provinces, often blown up by the active imagination of the people, but no one could doubt his existence.

Every once in a blue moon, a beautiful maiden would be found bearing the demon's child. And nine months later, the woman and her child would die.

A tiny village had dismissed the news as unimportant. They couldn't possibly see how they could get involved in the demon's affairs. Their little community was only a gathering of thirty cottages, supporting a population of barely a hundred and fifty people. They had nothing to offer, having only enough resources provided by the forest and a nearby river to feed themselves and prepare for the oncoming winters. What could a lustful demon possibly want with them?

They underestimated the lull of a pure soul.

And so he had been born. The only one to survive out of all who his father had touched.

His mother had not lived. Maybe if she had, he would had not have been forcefully stripped of his innocence. Maybe if he had been raised surrounded by her rumored kindness, he would have not chosen to walk the path his father's blood had already predetermined for him. But it was too late to wonder of what could have been.

Izaya was Izaya. And on his cursed blood, he swore to conquer anything and everything beautiful in the world. To make up for what he was not.

美

"Lord Izaya, who would you like have to have as your bed companion tonight?"

He took another puff from his pipe before allowing his beautiful red eyes to focus on the servant by his side. "Who would you have me choose?"

His servant kept his blond head low in a sign of subservience. "It is not my place to choose for you, my lord. I am but a lowly servant, here to support my lord as his stepping stone and fall with my lord if he were to stumble."

"Hmm. Is that so?" Izaya smirked and allowed his pipe to slip through his fingers onto a platter one of his retainers held. He then abruptly stood and whipped around to grab his servant by the chin. "Then tell me," he whispered, softly pushing aside the golden bangs from blocking the other man's eyes, "is this the face of a stepping stone?"

His hazel eyes flashed before assuming a glaze of indifference, but the servant had not been quick enough to hide his expression of utter loathing. "My lord, what makes you think otherwise?"

Izaya grinned and hoisted the man up to his feet. Upright, his servant was clearly the taller of the two, as well as the more muscular. If anyone were to raise an armed rebellion against him, Izaya had no doubt that this man would be the one to take the lead. He could just envision him now, coming for the half-demon in the middle of the night, barging into his quarters and ruthlessly hacking his head off.

"You will do. Come prepare yourself for my bed. Make sure you polish your surface, my stepping stone."

美

He had never known a man to be so passionate, yet so cold at the same time.

"Ah!" he stifled a moan and clutched at the bed sheets underneath their twisting, intertwining bodies. "M-more," he whimpered when the rhythm stopped abruptly. "Give me more."

The servant complied and thrusted himself deeper and faster. His lord screamed and shattered against him, sobbing at the end of his climax. "Was my lord satisfied?"

Izaya shot him an angry glare. He removed himself from the servant and picked up his robe from the polished, ornate floor. They remained in silence as he slowly tied his sash together, and stayed in silence until he finally spoke. "I have never felt a man move so fiercely before. Tell me, was this your first time?"

"No," his servant responded thickly. "I made love one other time."

He ruffled his black hair, trying to appear nonchalant when inside he was burning with curiosity. "Oh? Who was the lucky object of your affections?"

The servant visibly bristled in indignation. "She was no object. She was my best friend, my confidante. The only one who understood."

"What happened to her?"

His large shoulders began to quake. His voice broke, filled with remorse and loss and undeniable fury.

"She was killed. On your orders."

美

He was sprawled on the prison floor, taking in his last breaths.

If only the people could see him now. He who had climbed from the depths of an immeasurable valley all the way to its summit, was now back to rock bottom. Actually, worse than rock bottom. At rock bottom, he would still have a stable surface to stand upon and walk aimlessly around. His future was to be decided among those he had wronged. And he had wronged many.

Some called for his blood. Others, greedy and full of disgusting lust, demanded their pain to be compensated with his body. The rest were undecided; Izaya had robbed them of what little pride and dignity they previously had. How could they regain what was essential to keep them distinguished from domestic animals?

They were all so stupid. None of them could see he was wasting away while they bickered and fought amongst themselves.

He had taken advantage of their stupidity. How dare they, he had constantly seethed in his childhood days, how dare the stupid humans be happy and loved when he alone was to bear the weight of being an outcast for the rest of his life? He had been furious instead of sorrow-filled to find he was different and no one respected him for himself. Humans were stupid, he had decided very early on. They did not look him in the eye, did not engage in even one conversation with him, but had already flippantly decided for themselves that he was of a lower breed than they.

He would change that. He would show them how ignorant and brainwashed they were, how weak and easily broken their silly convictions were.

But he had not counted on falling in love with one of the humans he abhorred so much. Izaya's servant had become a curiosity to him, the one window he could peek through to see the one emotion he craved for-love.

_"How did you feel whenever you saw her?"_

_"Excuse me?"_

_Izaya wrinkled his brow in impatience. "Your lover...how did you feel when you saw her?"_

_"Why do you want to know, my lord?"_

_"Just answer the question," he hissed, embarrassed to be found so interested in a topic he was not familiar with._

_The servant gave him a ghost of a smile. "She was beautiful," he started, deep voice breathy while reminiscing. "That's what people first saw in her-the only thing a lot of people saw in her. But she was so much more. We saw past each other's thorny exteriors and found common ground in our pain."_

_"Sounds sadistic," Izaya remarked._

_"You wouldn't understand," his servant dismissed. "We understood what each other had been through. She was my partner, and helped me through with obstacles I could not face. And I did the same for her. We looked out for each other, and a mutual love gradually formed. You on the other hand, has no one to fully comprehend your story."_

_"Are you saying I'll never be able to find love? Because there is no one like me in the world?"_

_One blonde eyebrow quirked in amusement. "Love is probably different for everyone, my lord. Who knows. They do say opposites attract nowadays."_

And who could be more opposite to him than his servant had been? While he was cynical, manipulative, and indulged in pleasures from left to right, his servant had been of a loyal character. Although he had hated the master he served, he stuck to the duty that was set before him and never complained nor rebelled against Izaya's countless demands. And even though there were many nights he was subjected to come to bed with the half-demon, he had retained his virtue.

Like light, Izaya thought idly as his eyelids began to close for the last time. Darkness can overwhelm light, but not for long. In the end, it'll always revert back to its natural state.

He wasn't even aware when he spoke his name. Maybe it had always been on the tip of his tongue, waiting to be unleashed with all the suppressed feelings underneath.

No one was aware when he spoke his last word. But that didn't matter. It was for his ears only, after all. And he was already dead.

"Shizuo."

Maybe he'd get to see him one more time before descending to hell.


	4. Chapter 4: Dark

Oh man I have not updated in a long time.

I'm still on episode four of DRRR (I apologize) but I get hit with Shizaya feels from time to time and I finally mustered enough courage to wrap up drabble four. It's rather shoddy compared to the others, but I hope y'all enjoy!

Note: As the prompt was _Dark_, I thought it'd be fitting for this drabble to be connected to its predecessor, so this is indeed the partner to _Light. _

* * *

**Locks and Blades**

**Drabble Four-Dark**

When Celty died, Shizuo had sworn his heart died with her.

美

"Shizuo."

His whole frame shook under the pressure of restraining his tears. "Celty," he choked out, reaching to caress her pale face. Her hand met his and returned his grip with cold fingers bathed in blood. "Celty..." he paused, trying to force down one body-wracking sob and failing, "who did this to you?"

Her stomach was brutally run through by a longsword, gleaming silver and shining immaculate except for the blood pooling at its base. He had made to pull it out when he had first spotted the glooming fixture, but she had gasped in pain and pleaded against his slightest touch so that he could only kneel helplessly by.

Yes, she was dying, and Shizuo could do nothing but watch as the grim reaper took the one soul he ever loved away.

"It doesn't matter," she smiled weakly, pressing his fingers against her lips as she spoke. "It truly doesn't, Shizuo. Please don't look like that."

He struggled hard to comply with one of her last requests, to unfurl his brow stamped with raging fury, to erase his amber eyes of swelling grief, but all his effort only broke him down even further. Bile rose in the back of his throat and he swallowed harshly to keep it down. "Why won't you tell me?" he nearly whimpered. "They hurt you, I'll hurt them. Please...!"

She shook her head, her brown hair slipping from her eyes to reveal their tear-ridden state. "Because I know you, Shizuo," she whispered fiercely. "I know you'll never rest until you feel you've avenged me. And what will you do then, when your hands are stained with blood and your soul is empty because you threw everything for a dead person?"

"Well what else am I supposed to do when you're gone?!" he cried in frustration and punched his fist against the floor. "There'll be nothing else to live for, nothing else to do! I don't-" Shizuo choked up once again and finally allowed the pent-up tears to fall. "I don't know how to live without you anymore."

"You'll move on," she smiled sadly. "Someone new will come into your life and make it worth living again."

He could not speak. He could only hold her until her eyes flutter closed, and then let out a piercing, grieving bellow.

美

"Get up."

Shizuo cracked one eye open but did not respond.

The screeching clang of the prison doors opening had him shut his eye right back up again in irritation. The heavy clomping of pompous boots made their way towards him and he braced himself for the inevitable beating.

A knee to the face came first. Then several harsh kicks to the stomach, swearing, taunting, screeching. "Why don't 'cha react, huh?" his tormentor squealed, pushing and shoving him around in obvious delight. "Did that monster man force ya into submission just like this? Huh?"

His mask of indifference nearly slipped at the allusion, almost let rip a snarl of wrath, almost pulled against his restraints to tear the smug smirk away with his teeth.

But that would not do. After all, Shizuo was disinclined to flashy, passionate moves fueled by base instincts. And from the very moment he was captured by enemy forces, he had decided his only act of rebellion would be apathetic silence. He would never let them get inside his head, would never let them get the information on the one they lusted for most.

Celty had been right. He had found someone worth living for.

Shizuo fixed his captor with an unrelenting, soul-dissecting glare so intimidating the fat man had fallen back on his ass in surprise. He grinned and opened his mouth wide long enough for the dimwitted soul to understand what he was about to do.

He chomped down on his tongue and tasted the metallic rust of his blood surge and fall past his lips.

He would even die for him.

美

_Dark._

_It is dark and I am dead._

_…_

_Is this what she felt like? This feeling, this knowledge of leaving someone precious behind?_

_How bitter. _

_..._

_But at least we will meet again in this darkness._

_We will meet, and then I will never let him go. _


End file.
